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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26608285">the type of dream in which i belong to you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_I_Neptune/pseuds/A_I_Neptune'>A_I_Neptune</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ballet Dancer Lance, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cute Keith, Dancer Lance, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), Lance is a good boyfriend, Lance is a tease, Lance just wants keith to eat well, Lance takes care of Keith, M/M, They love each other so much, Voltron, keith is a foster kid, keith is touch starved, klance, lance is a dancer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:41:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,946</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26608285</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_I_Neptune/pseuds/A_I_Neptune</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>sometimes, keith doesn’t understand how  lance is real. standing in front of him in ballet tights with clumps of mascara upon his lashes and crystal gaze within deep, ocean blue. touching him softly and calling keith his.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Keith/Lance, Klance - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>89</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the type of dream in which i belong to you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>warmth.</p>
<p>so often now, that was what greeted keith in the early mornings.</p>
<p>the silken glide of satin sheets beneath clueless, slumber numbed limbs. the longing kisses of the jaded sun as it yawned it's way upon the sky, draping crystal curtains of coral over frosted windowpanes and soaking the asphalt streets in golden jewels and cherry soda. his sticky tongue tasted of toffee, and buttered eyes bloomed violet petals with the grace of the heat on his skin. on his skin, his skin. </p>
<p>his flesh was held together by piercing safety pins that just barely held the edges of his surface together, just barely prevented floods of tangled imaginings and ruined recollection into the world and painting the earth's face in bloody tissue and misery. his flesh felt ill fitting on a form so thin, so gangly, so protruding. he was the endless blank canvas of pink tinted lily and smatterings of orchid blooming in shades of plum on thighs and hips, yet weary grays stolen from dull sidewalks painted the shadows of his eyes, threatened to empty the violet from his eyes and replace it with heavy, soggy cotton. </p>
<p>he was cold, cold like the stone bones held within that body, cold like winter nights without a scalding hand to hold, without the blaze of a fire against his cheeks, so cold. cold in solitude and in loneliness. but not here. for flesh burned bright under the sun's attentive stare, and he awoke to splashes of blood orange splattered upon his face, to marigold crystals hanging from the curves of his lead lashes. </p>
<p>he licked his lips, and his mouth tasted not of blood, but of saltwater and clementine, and just a hint of sweet and hazy vanilla. pressing a lazy touch upon his own narrow hips, he felt the looseness of those seams, yet also the soreness of bruises left by praising hands and hushing mouths, and he breathed. he breathed in the sunlight on lance's penthouse window, breathed it in so deep that the sun beams settled thick in his lungs, like coils of pure heat. but they did not burn, instead coating his breath in delirious warmth and easing the ever present ache of his chest from the burdening weight that was his heart. </p>
<p>it was so very warm here, he would have thought it was a dream. thought the satin pillowcase that smelled of caramel tresses and sugar were a mere delusion, that this room so bright with morning, and the possibility of new sunrise were just a conjuring of his imagination. and yet the scent of the sheets...that divine conflation of diffident vulnerability, potent with freesia and rain, and the adulation, the hunger of that pining sea rushing to meet the waiting hands of a longing lover, it was so very real. it invaded his senses until he was left just as dizzy and clueless as the night before, head spinning and lips parting to gulp down inhales that seared like fire. </p>
<p>so early in the morning, and the embrace of warmth and of him left keith lost in elation, in desire. </p>
<p>he smiled softly into that pillowcase, feeling the smooth brush of delightfully gentle fabric graze the soft, plump skin of his tender lips. he pressed into the mattress, so soft, so receptive and cautious of his lightened weight as feathery material surrounded him and he was left overcome with comfort. </p>
<p>he sighed. a relieved sound thick with unarmed longing and immeasurable gratitude and just a pinch of fear that everything would melt away the moment he lifted his heavy eyelids, and the sun would shake her head and desert him, leaving him to drown in the cold of her withdrawal and the sting of realization. fear that his own two hands upon his hips were the only hands to have touched him, that those estival tanned fingers had never once traced the paths of his arms, the skin of his thighs, had never once caught his harsh tremors between heated grips or traced the shape of his mouth. that he was alone, as he always had been, not a love made mark on his body, not a soul in sight who cared for him. </p>
<p>but, his soul had merged and melded with another the night he whispered the dreaded words on strawberry plump lips. his weary being had found the embrace of another, and who, as if sensing his growing bitterness, the sour twinge of bile dread, came to his rescue. </p>
<p>there was only the muffled sound of fizzy confection laughter on the tip of that toffee sticky tongue before faerie light footsteps announced lance's presence, and keith felt those scalding hands replace his own on his bare hips. </p>
<p>bronze sheen skin clashed with pale alabaster and melted through solid surface to raging blood. still, though lance's handprints were seared and carved into his raw being, his nerves were set alight by simple touch, a gasp ripping from his throat as slender fingers pressed on lovely purple petals. he felt the heat of the morning bubble to deadly summer and burn his cheeks cherry red. </p>
<p>"good morning my love." lance cooed, and honey words glazed golden lips in sweet substance. he smelled so sweet and fresh, and keith looked up through hefty eyes to find his boyfriend clad in pink ballet tights and a man's black leotard. the satin pointe shoes upon his feet must have been half the reason for his ghostly arrival, so quiet even keith's sensitive ears could not pick it up. the rose blossoms faded beneath his tanned cheeks matched the hazy pink of his tights and the gloss of his mouth, and keith's vision swam with him. </p>
<p>"lance..." he whispered. his voice was ragged from sleep and the memory of the broken cries he'd let loose against lance's shoulder the night before. his fingers tightened around the fabric of the bed. "how long have you been up?"</p>
<p>"me?" he shrugged. "oh, a few hours i guess. i woke before the sun came out. habit."</p>
<p>yes. weeks of relentless dance rehearsal has trained lance's usually foggy, scattered mind to hastily organize itself into coherency early enough for him to make dance. keith knew this, knew his waking late was nothing to be blamed for. though in sleep, thoughts of heat and love and hunger had faded to mere ambience in his mind, his body remembered, and was tired from it all. but, he still felt somewhat strange, knowing lance was up far before him, doing something productive, while he slept in lance's bed. </p>
<p>the apology already sat at the back of his throat, but those god awful words had been murmured from his quivering lips so many times and in so many instances, lance caught them before they'd even fully curled upon his tongue and snatched them away. </p>
<p>"no, no, you needed your rest," he insisted, and the bed dipped with his weight as he crawled onto the mattress beside keith. he still smelled like himself, though the usual aroma was joined by the vague smell of the dance studio and laundry detergent. "we had quite the night." </p>
<p>keith hummed. </p>
<p>lance's slow exhales cascaded down the back of his neck, twitching at a few stray baby hairs that had plastered themselves to his nape in the heated sweat of sleep. hot hands still laved across the junction of his hips slowly began to wander, lazily, like the dawn melding into the sky. </p>
<p>damned starved nerves. they were electrified instantly, though a touch so gentle should not have coaxed the full body shudder that it did, not the keening sigh of relief as though those sweet brushes of contact were bringing him home. </p>
<p>he was warm. so warm. </p>
<p>and lance kept making him warmer. </p>
<p>he turned over, so he could see those crystal glazed eyes locked upon his own, stunning with their cerulean saturation, their joyous color so content with this moment. the clumps of mascara still on those pretty lashes, the crystallized sunshine on the brim of his eyes. he traced the smattering patterns of butterscotch freckles dotting the bridge of lance's nose, sprinkles of sun kissed love on his cheeks. the honey on his lips, sweet, sweet, sweet. </p>
<p>"are you hungry?" lance mumbled, voice residing in that gentle place low in his throat, pierced by that purr of thoughtless pondering. "i made you breakfast. cinnamon toast, turkey bacon, and scrambled eggs."</p>
<p>as always, keith groaned at the thought of protein, heavy in his stomach. but lance, as always, simply fixed him with a glare startling as twin dagger pricking the surface of his skin, yet soft, patient as a wisened tree in a noisy forest. </p>
<p>"baby doll," he admonished, though that ooey gooey, adhesive syrup tone ruined the effect and ruined keith too. "we've talked about this. protein is good for you."</p>
<p>keith scowled, but burned flush, all draped in warm, melted lemon drops and drizzled caramel. </p>
<p>"i'm not a child. i know it's good for me. i just don't like it."</p>
<p>he'd grown up so unused to protein, especially in large amounts. other greedy hands stole strips of meat from group home dinner tables, and other forms of protein were rarely served. foster parents withheld nourishment from the strange asian kid with gritty hands and bloody teeth and no true place to call home, so he'd survived on scraps of bread from the dinner table and small servings of soup and salad. something light was all his frail stomach could handle, yet lance was adamant about him receiving his daily fill of protein, even if he always felt strange and bloated after consuming it. </p>
<p>"want me to feed it to you again?" lance questioned with a quick, suggestive wink. keith growled and slapped at his shoulder, but he sensed the solid sincerity behind the simple statement. like before, lance would press that which he'd always been deprived of against his lips with gentle hands and brush patient kisses upon his brow after each gulp. </p>
<p>he was beautiful like that. wondrous like that. and though his first instinct was to slew a string of sarcastic comments and soured insults that just barely veiled the need lying beneath, he swallowed hard and managed a tiny nod. lance smiled, softly, dizzying and saccharine. like he was proud of keith.</p>
<p>and keith grew ever warmer. </p>
<p>proud of me.</p>
<p>lance lifted the pads of his nimble fingers, drew a circle along keith's thin, white wrists. </p>
<p>keith shivered hard once, and then again when lance stroked those long fingers along the insides of his arms, following the paths of his veins with scorching touch. his body curled into each place lance touched him, never tired of the rush those hands gave him, the delirious devotion they coaxed from his muddled brain. </p>
<p>lance pressed a tender kiss to his bare shoulder as his fingers continued their gentle torture, opening his lips softly along the seams of his threadbare skin and dousing him in honey, honey cascading from his shoulder blades, running tremors down his back. </p>
<p>"sensitive..." lance muttered, like an afterthought, and keith released a quick breath, body squirming on the mattress. </p>
<p>"i—i know..." he stuttered softly, so softly. melted down to his aching core already, by the mere heat of another's summer skin, another's summer breath, and summer eyes against him. "you tell me all the time...told me a thousand times last night..."</p>
<p>his vocal chords thrummed a sweet, drunken whine, one he should have felt embarrassed of, or would have had he not cried a thousand other embarrassing noises when lance cared for him so gently. </p>
<p>"love it," lance mumbled against the slope of his neck. "love how sensitive you are, it's so cute."</p>
<p>keith rolled his eyes, but didn't contradict him as he continued his early morning exploration of keith's body, pressing silent confession and quieted praise into the curves and dips of his being with his drifting touch, his nose traveling the bends of his bone structure. he felt the skim of lance's smooth tights against his own bare legs, the push of lance's pointe shoe, hard and cold against his toes, yet still so gentle as the man wearing them. </p>
<p>"you..." keith struggled, wringing his rapidly fading syllables from his dried out throat. he could still taste lance at the back of his tongue, all the way down his esophagus, and that accompanied by lance, lance, lance, determined to drive him mad with feeling was too much right now. he shook his head, grasping for the last of his sanity, the cold, clear cut of reality within the amaranth dream clouding his thoughts and judgement. "you have to finish...mm...dance things?"</p>
<p>"cute," lance giggled again, huffing his amusement against keith's flame streaked cheek. "yeah, i have to finish dance things mi precioso. and you have some food to eat,"</p>
<p>keith felt lance's mouth curl. "but first, let me..."</p>
<p>keith's brows pinched.</p>
<p>"lance—mnphf!"</p>
<p>familiar honey lips captured keith's in a strawberry glazed kiss, so fearsome. lance kissed him so soft, yet so powerful, powerful enough to lay complete and utter wreckage to his disordered mind and knock his weakened body back into the mattress. sudden fever overtook him, overtook all his senses with liquid fire, with sluggish, thoughtless molasses. with memories of nothing but lance's mouth, and lance's scent, and lance's hands. lance kissed him a thousand times, but he would never be used to the slow, yet frantic way in which those lips took him, in which that honey coated his mouth in sweet and in bitter and in pleasure that burned in shades of blinding gold and deep reds. he was drowning, like he always was when lance was with him. his lungs went up in flames, and he made tiny, desperate sounds in the back of his throat as his limbs went limp and numb and aching and his mouth was easily pried wide open. </p>
<p>there was a dizzy rush as lance's tongue dipped into his mouth, and all thought deserted him. his mind was a useless mass of tissue behind his skull, incapable of doing anything with depth, and he thought he might pass out. stars were bursting behind his eyelids as lance explored him ravenously, as though he hadn't tasted the nectar on his teeth and the strawberry on his tongue only the night before, as though keith had left him starving for months and months without a single thing to take the edge off. he was lost in the glide of scalding skin against skin, those gripping hands on his stomach, his hips, his arms, that scent, the heat, oh god.</p>
<p>he's holding onto lance for dear life, his chest tight with lack of oxygen. and only when keith's noises begin to die off, strangled by the dire lack of air, did lance pull away. </p>
<p>keith was left panting, hissing ragged breaths, exhales shredded and ruined by confused pleasure. he was open mouthed against the sheets, too sweet with honey. he felt it so fully, soaking into his pores until he was sure the blank marble of his flesh had all but fled, replaced by a complexion reminiscent of lance's, with his apollo blessed skin and ethereal brown pallor. he was warmer, warmer, warmer than he'd ever been. far off, he heard the sound of lance huffing breaths so heavy with blazing fire and hefty desire, laughing as he watched keith quiver and tremble against his bed, colored baby rosebud and covered in sugar and plum. far off, he heard himself hiss out "asshole!" in lance's general direction, but it was several minutes before he returned to himself, insubstantial with dream like yearning, but somewhat coherent. </p>
<p>"i love you baby." lance laughed when keith turned a fearsome, unfocused glare on him. </p>
<p>"fucking asshole." </p>
<p>"come on keithy, don't be like that—"</p>
<p>"when my fucking ass stops hurting, i'm going to come for your kneecaps."</p>
<p>even still, though keith forged plastic anger and bared his melted sugar soaked teeth like the furious cat lance always compared him to, he allowed lance to dress him in his usual lounge wear and allowed him to pick him up and carry him downstairs, for his body protested large movement, and lance refused to allow his precious angel feet to touch upon the ground. he clutched onto lance's shoulders with shaky hands and curled fingers, felt the weightlessness of relying entirely upon another person, of giving the entirety of his body to lance and trusting those hands not to break him. he had grown up so cold and so broken. a boy of poorly sewn fabric patches, loose seams, and dangling threads, a boy with a broken machine in the center of his chest and the glassy vacancy of a doll's eyes behind his weary, gritty irises. he spit out blood into his palms and wiped crimson petals on his jeans as though those petals were not born from the thorns in his lungs, and he'd strangled his voice with his own hands, sure that should he utter a word, bronze fists would rain raging hail upon his fragile form. he'd grown like special china, run through with golden cracks, and delicate as porcelain beneath hardened scars and muscle. being warm, being held, being loved...those were all dreams he could never afford to imagine...dreams he would never believe to be true...</p>
<p>but...looking upon lance beaming like the very sun that kissed that penthouse window, glimpsing the clear truth of his crystal eyes, he admitted to himself...</p>
<p>i could imagine this dream was true, if it was the type of dream in which i belong to you.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>a/n: so how was this one shot? </p>
<p>are you enjoying these klance one shots so far and is there anything about this one that you didn’t like or thought i could improve? i know i used the word honey like, ten thousand times. </p>
<p>i’m thinking about making this one shot part of a cute little klance one shot collection because i really like this idea and i kind of want to explore their relationship in this setting. but what do you guys think?<br/>please leave comments telling me your thoughts and feelings and thank you soooooooooooooo much for reading.</p>
<p>i love you all.</p>
<p>you are so beautiful. </p>
<p>don't let anyone make you think otherwise. i know that sometimes you're going to look in the mirror and pull at your skin and pick at your flaws as though you are deserving of that kind of treatment. but your mind tricks you. your thoughts can turn to stone and hurt you and sometimes your own hands are the most hateful.</p>
<p>and i hate that. i want to be there, whenever you're hurting, whenever you're scared. i wish you could just call on me. like a fairy. and poof! i'd be there! and i'd hug you really tight, and comb my hands through your hair (if that's a thing you like) and tell you just how beautiful you are, and just how precious you are to me, and tell you just how much i love you. i would make sure you're eating well, and hold your hand, and help you remember how to breathe when you've forgotten how. i would treat you, and make you your favorite snacks and drinks. i'd watch movies with you while we're both cuddled up in blankets, and if you cried, i would wipe your tears away. </p>
<p>but i'm no fairy. you can't call on me to care for you, so these notes will have to do for now. you are angels. you have the right to be happy. you are so worthy of love and kindness. you deserve to be treated gently. you should be treasured. you should feel loved. because you are. by me. by others. by so many more to come. you aren't alone darlings, and you're going to be okay.</p>
<p>you're doing so good and i am so incredibly proud of you. thank you for all of your comments, your love, your support. i hope you can feel just how much i love you in every word.</p>
<p>so please, take care of yourselves, be kind to yourselves, and treat yourselves because you're special and you're worth it! </p>
<p>i'm sending you all warm cuddles and virtual hugs!</p>
<p>eat and stay hydrated!</p>
<p>love youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!<br/>(｡'▽'｡)♡</p></blockquote></div></div>
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